


Let it Snow (I)

by thespiritualmultinerd



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Short, Snow, Unspoken, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:32:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9652022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespiritualmultinerd/pseuds/thespiritualmultinerd
Summary: John and Sherlock always have problems communicating, but an evening spent by a warm fire might help them slightly in the right direction.





	

The fire was dying. John glanced at his watch. It was later than he thought, much later. He couldn’t remember the last time they had sat like this, just the two of them, just talking and laughing at nothing for hours. He had really just come over to drop something off, but somehow they had ended up in their old chairs with a delightful fire and some mulled wine to keep them warm. The snow had been falling down heavy for hours and John had been using it as an excuse. Not yet. I should wait a bit. Maybe it will stop soon and it will be easier to get home. It didn’t stop though, and now it was worse than ever. In the dim streetlight he could see the flakes whirling, momentarily slowing down only to fiercely being whisked around by the wind the next second. It was probably going to continue all night. 

\- You need to get home, Sherlock stated, having followed John’s thought process from the chair across. 

John sighed and stretched his limbs.

\- I suppose so. 

They both sat still for a minute, unwilling to move. John knew that he should be getting up but he couldn’t seem to make his muscles do the work. The chair was comfortable, the blanket warm and the street outside was dark and cold. He looked over at Sherlock who was staring into the fire with a vacant expression on his face. His dark curls reflected the warm light with a golden shimmer and his eyes seemed to sparkle with the fading fire. John couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this relaxed. If only it could be like this all the time. Warm. Safe. Only him and Sherlock hiding from the snow in their warm rooms at Baker Street. Suddenly Sherlock looked up and caught John’s eyes. The two men smiled vaguely at each other, both knowing that the worriless night had come to an end. 

After putting away their mugs and blowing out a few candles John put on his winter coat and picked up his gloves from the coffee table. Sherlock had called a cab and without a word he followed him down the stairs to the front door and waited while John carefully put on his hat and scarf. When he was done John looked up at Sherlock, prepared to thank him for the evening, but the words got caught when he saw the look upon the detective’s face. There was a sadness he hadn’t seen before, along with something that had to be tenderness. It only lasted a second, and then Sherlock’s features were once again set in an orderly manner. 

\- The cab should be here in a few minutes. It was fairly close.

\- Right. Yeah.

John was still a bit caught off guard. Sherlock opened the door and closed it fast again after making sure the cab was not yet there, but the cold wind still managed to sweep in a few snowflakes that melted on the floor. John shivered. He looked up at the detective once again.

\- Kinda wish I didn’t have to go out into this cold. But I really do need to get home. 

Sherlock only nodded, slightly avoiding John’s look. John continued.

\- I really had a good time tonight though. We should do it more often. You know, just the two of us. I... - he took a deep breath - I really miss you, you know.

Finally Sherlock met his eyes. John carefully smiled at him. Sherlock relaxed a bit, some light coming back to his eyes, and he smiled back.

\- I... miss you too, John, he said with some difficulty. 

For a long moment they looked at each other. Then suddenly Sherlock raised his hand. He hesitated for a second and then slowly placed it on John’s cheek with his long fingers on the knitted hat. John was a bit taken aback by this sudden sign of affection but didn’t move, as if afraid he might scare him if he did. Sherlock looked a bit confused himself. He took a deep breath.

\- I hope you get home alright, John, he said with great intent. Keep warm, okay. 

John felt his heart grow warmer in his chest, and following his instincts he raised his own hand and placed it on Sherlock’s. Then he took it in a firm grip, pressing it gently with his gloved hand as he kept his gaze steady on Sherlock’s eyes. 

The wind was icing cold and the streets were filled with snow, but the whole cab ride home John felt warmer than he had done in a very long time.


End file.
